


Lions of the Isle

by CaptainTarthister



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Children, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jousting, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Post-Canon, Scars, Smut, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 13:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: Jaime and Brienne face off regarding the inevitable betrothal of their young daughter and other children.





	Lions of the Isle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catherineflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineflowers/gifts), [Kristilove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristilove/gifts).

> Woke up thinking, "Well, why not write this?" Then bam.  
Thanks to the ladies for never failing to make me laugh.

Ignoring the maester’s protests, Brienne stormed out of her chambers. By now the handmaidens knew to throw themselves out of the way when Her Lady Evenstar wore a scowl so ugly it made even infants cry. Servants replacing the worn carpet in the hallway for a lighter, summer-apt swath flattened themselves on the wall as she thundered past them. Her ladyship’s patience rivalled the gods’ so when she looked ready to flatten anyone in her path, it was known her wrath could possibly cause all the walls in Seven Hells to tremble.

She didn’t have to walk far. Almost as soon as she drew the next breath, she was shoving open the double doors of her husband’s chambers. Some servants and his squire, a lad of fourteen borne of Edmure Tully and his Frey wife, whipped their heads to the direction of the crash. Like the others, they scrambled out of the way, giving her a wide berth before elbowing and shouldering each other toward the door. She closed the door behind them then turned to glare at her husband.

Jaime Lannister winced as he scrambled to his feet. Shirtless and bruised, his chest was marked with battle scars and gouges. Despite her annoyance, Brienne felt her knees tremble from the sight of her sweaty, pissed off, golden lion.

They made one fine pair despite the glaring contrast between his gods-honed good looks and her coarse features. For every gash and bruise on his face and body, she was marked with their partner. She stood at the door then began to approach him.

Since the first time each sought treatment following the impromptu joust, she winced from the pain flaring from her left ankle. Jaime quickly moved to assist her but ended up growling. His sudden movement resulted in similar pain, but from the knee. With a sigh, he sat back on the bed while Brienne gripped one of its posts. She saw his golden hand on an ornate nightstand.

She turned back to Jaime. Despite being mapped with big purple bruises, he wore no binding. She was relieved. She had been worried about breaking his ribs after shoving him off the horse.

“Take off your shirt,” he snarled, jabbing a finger aggressively in her direction. Dirty golden hair fell over his eyes. His right eye was half-closed, the area purple-blue. His face had been scrubbed clean but there was still scratches from where his helmet had twisted and scratched him. “For once obey your lord husband, wench.”

Despite her glare, she did grab her shirt by the collar and threw it to the floor—his shirt was already there. Her chest and stomach were more purple rather than the usual creamy flesh splashed with freckles. It didn’t hurt to breathe so she knew she didn’t break any ribs too. However, the look on Jaime’s face was one of displeasure and irritation. His eyes narrowed even more when they dropped to her tits. They were round and heavy. Milk hung like glistening pearls from her nipples.

“Are you happy with how we’ve settled the conflict, wife?” He demanded. “Look at you. Look at us. Must we provoke the Stranger into making an early coming? Because you can certainly kill me. Do you think when I’m gone the king won’t have you spreading your ridiculously long legs to another husband while your first is still warm in the crypt?” He gazed at her tits. “That another man might get to taste you—”

It was too unpleasant a thought to finish but Brienne grimaced too. It could very well happen. She was still young. Still had her moonblood. Proof of her fertility too was that she had given birth to a daughter exactly nine moons from their wedding night. Then just before the third year of their marriage, she gave birth to a son.

Wars had left her uglier, but she was Evenstar of Sapphire Isle. The close ages of her children meant seed in her womb would always bloom. She will never be valued for her looks. Despite her part in saving the Seven Kingdoms from the Long Night, there were still lords who would rather ignore her skill with the sword. But she _was_ Tarth, and trusted by the likes of Lord Tyrion Lannister, Lady Sansa Stark, Lord Gendry and King Jon himself. No battle will be fought for her looks, but land and fertility made her a prize.

“Is that your justification for hitting me?” She growled. Her cheek, still scarred from when it had been eaten off by Biter, was purple from Jaime’s gauntleted punch. “Because every time you do that you know I’ll pay you twice the _debt_. You won’t get rid of me so easily either.”

Jaime flushed and hung his head. “I took no pleasure in it. I apologize.”

She had no reason to doubt him. Seeing the marks she’d inflicted on him, she said, “Neither did I. I don’t live to hurt you, Jaime.”

Calling him by his name, in that soft husk she unconsciously used when they were alone, drew Jaime’s eyes back to her. He sighed. “Why must we fight the inevitable, wench?”

“She’s only two!” Brienne exclaimed. Her sweet little girl. It hurt her heart just trying to accept that when she was older she will be some man’s and taken from the Sapphire Isle.

Mothers would always love their children. It wasn’t a choice. But the first, Brienne learned, tend to get the lion’s share of her heart even though she knew she will never favor one child over the other. Her Ardyn. Tall even at two. Her hair sharing the soft waves of Jaime’s golden mane but with the unruliness and sun-bleached texture of Brienne’s. She was pale and heavily-freckled too, and it was clear early on that she would grow up plain and melting in the background despite her height. But her eyes were round, vivid emeralds that captivated once noticed.

Gaebrel, their son, lived solely on her milk. He was as beautiful as his father, and perhaps would grow up even more so. He was every bit of Jaime’s except for the eyes. Brienne was supremely glad about that. Jaime teased her for having the most astonishing eyes, but she believed Gaebrel’s called for descriptions that no known language could satisfy. He was heir of the Sapphire Isle so he would never leave. But it still hurt to imagine him betrothed before he could walk.

“She still spills food on herself when eating. She’s too young to perfect her writing. She can’t even wield a sword yet. Yet her name is in some fucking contract already.” It was getting Brienne riled up again. “You’re consigning her to some life when she hasn’t had a chance to live her own life!”

“I have yet to sign! Just because I refuse to fight I agree!” Jaime protested. “She’s my—” his voice choked. “She’s the light of our lives, Brienne. Do you think I want her to leave once she starts bleeding? That I would ever want her away from here?”

Brienne was glad to be sitting down. Had her first betrothed lived, she would have married him as soon as moonblood stained her smallclothes. “All I want,” she said, trying to stay calm, “is for her to grow up knowing who she is first before she’s someone else’s. That’s why as her mother—as your wife, I insist on having my name on the contract too. She’s _ours_, Jaime. _We_ made her. She’s our baby.”

An odd look crossed over to Jaime’s face, but it was quick to vanish. He moved closer to her until their thighs brushed. He put an arm around her shoulders and rested his chin on her shoulder. She sighed, turning slightly to kiss him on the forehead.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t like it either. I shall speak to the king about expanding the search for a match.” As Brienne snorted in frustration, he took her by the chin so she would look at him. “Wench, it is the only way to delay it. I can’t promise years. But I swear to you I will buy what time there is so she will be ours for as long as possible.”

“I don’t give birth to children just for them to be taken away.”

“I don’t fuck you for our children to be taken away.”

Brienne didn’t care if she was unreasonable or making a most impossible request. Their children should be Lannisters of the Sapphire Isle first before they were anyone else’s. In a perfect world, Ardyn and Gaebrel would not be anyone else’s but themselves. The Long Night was over. Beginning with their children’s generation, winter was becoming a myth.

But life as it had for hundreds of years went on. People like them, who would always have meat and bread on the table, paid for that security by hardly being free to choose and marry for love. Robb Stark choosing his bride with his heart made for popular songs but was also a cautionary tale. Had Jeyne Westerling been in the feast where the Freys and Boltons murdered Robb, his mother and all northern allies, House Stark would cease to exist.

_We are the aberration_. Brienne was warm from the light scrub of Jaime’s thumb on her cheek. In the darkest of times, their hearts found each other. As happy as she was, there was also this cloud—the knowledge that their children were not likely to know of a love like theirs. The whore done right by her Kingslayer, as some songs described them. She hardly listened to them these days. Melodies made tragedies beautiful. And the words hardly told the truth.

“Wench,” Jaime said softly, thumbing her thick lips. “Next time. . .when it comes to our children, do you think we can have discussions rather than jousts? I’m not so young anymore. You might actually kill me.”

“You said you were going to fight me for it,” she reminded him, kissing his thumb. It tasted of sweat and metal. She sucked it briefly. “Do you know me to walk away from a challenge?”

He smiled. Her heart thudded fast and heavy in her chest once glimpsing those deep indentations on his cheeks that framed his beautiful smile. “Why do you think I married you?”

They kissed, gently at first, because Brienne had a cut on her lip and Jaime was sure a tooth felt loose. From the gentle, almost shy brushes of lips, their mouths parted, and tongue began to thrust and spar. Jaime wrapped his handless arm around her while she pulled at his other arm, wanting his hand on the warming juncture of her thighs.

His rough chest hairs scraped her swollen nipples. Her tits, heavy from the milk that needed to be expelled, hurt when pressed to the hard wall of his chest.

Their breeches were suddenly too hot, too tight, but neither wanted to end the kiss even for just a few breaths. It was Brienne who made the choice for them, wailing as if in pain as she leaped to her feet to attack the laces of her breeches then her boots. Jaime stared at her nude body like a man hit by a ton of bricks on the head.

Sparring and horse-riding kept her body lean and strong, but there were areas determined to remain soft now that she was a mother. Milk made her tits round and plump, when they were mere bumps of flesh when she was a maiden. Though the skin of her hips and thighs were still supple, they womanly curve that first appeared when she was pregnant with Ardyn was clearly here to stay.

“My warrior wife and maiden,” Jaime breathed.

Forgetting she should take care, Brienne rushed back to him and the pain in her ankle returned. Her cry brought Jaime to his feet. He caught her in his arms, and they fell in a tangle of limbs. “Wench?” He was panting, looking panicked. “What hurts?”

She shook her heard. “I was careless. It’s nothing. Your boots, husband—I need to—”

Jaime’s eyes went to the door and she shook her head. “Jaime! Not your squire! I’m doing it!”

“But the Evenstar kneels for no one,” he protested as she carefully got up and grabbed one of the pillows. She threw it at her feet and knelt to pull at his boots. “I don’t like my wife kneeling for anyone. Even for me.”

“I shall remind you of it the next time you want my mouth to warm your cock,” she teased, easily pulling the dusty leather boots, then the hose protecting feet and legs. With his one hand, Jaime loosened the laces of his breeches. As she pulled them down, he smirked.

“I think I need reminding now, wench.” As he spoke, he stroked his cock. Elegant fingers nudged the foreskin up and over the plump, gleaming head. Jaime pleasuring himself was mesmerizing to watch. Sunk in a trance, Brienne stared with admiration and wonder as his cock swelled before her eyes. With a moan, she pushed his hand out of the way. As she continued rubbing his foreskin over the long, thick shaft, her other hand grasped the round tip. Then her wide mouth closed around it.

Jaime moaned through her loud, hungry slurps. He tasted of salt and sweat. Smelled of leather and faintly of horses. Their eyes locked as she drank the juices preceding his seed.

“Let me kiss you,” he begged throatily, fisting her limp, messy braid to wrench her mouth from his cock. It popped wetly from her mouth.

He helped her climb his lap. With his arm around her, she held his cock while lowering herself on it. Sighs and moans left their lips as the warm, drenched channel of her cunt closed around his cock and pulled him deep inside. By the gods, nothing was as delicious as Jaime thrusting surely and arrogantly in her cunt. He urged her to remain still as his mouth captured one of her dripping nipples.

She swore she almost saw the gates of Seven Heavens as his lips suckled the milk from her tit, relieving it of the heavy, painful burden. He drew on her harshly. Wetly. As her hips squirmed and twisted, his cock surged harder into her. She groaned from the combined pleasure of his mouth on her nipple and his cock rubbing the slick walls of her cunt.

“Oh, Jaime,” she groaned when his lips pulled at her other nipple. Her eyes half-closed, she hugged him closer to her, pushing her tit deeper in his mouth. “What a gift your mouth is.”

They fucked at a gentle pace because of their injuries, but it was no less urgent from the roughness they were more comfortable with. Spread on top of Jaime, her face pressed on the bed, she mewled and whimpered as he continued drawing milk from her tits. His cock surged in and out of her, pressing deeper in her cunt at every return.

_“Jaime.” _In one word, in one name, she poured every pleasure, delight, need and hope she felt with him.

“My love,” he whispered, stump pushing the hair from her sweaty, red face. He gazed at her in a way that made her feel not just ten feet tall but the strongest of all in the world. She kissed the scars on his stump as his hand caressed her cheek. _“Brienne.” _

With Jaime asleep shortly, Brienne quietly left his chamber to return to hers. She nodded briefly at the guards stationed for the night in the hallway. One of them opened the double doors to her chambers. There, her handmaidens had prepared a light meal to be washed with fresh, cool water. One of the young girls had picked up Gaebrel from his cradle. He was whimpering.

“Has he been hungry long?” Brienne asked, feeling guilty. She took the infant and kissed him in apology. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“He’s just awakened, my lady,” the handmaiden assured her.

“I’ll be feeding him. You may leave us.”

Sitting on one of the chairs upholstered in silk, Brienne raised her shirt. Gaebrel’s plump fist quickly grasped one of her tits and began to feed. She sighed in contentment feeling and listening to his hungry suckles.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. “Your husband and most precious jewel request an audience with the Evenstar,” Jaime’s playful voice called out. Brienne chuckled.

“Come in, then.”

As soon as the door opened, Jaime swooped in, little Ardyn giggling from his arms. Her green eyes brightened upon seeing Brienne. “Mama!”

“My sweet,” Brienne greeted her, lifting an arm to invite her to sit with her. “Come help me feed your brother.”

She dropped a kiss on her smooth forehead. Ardyn smelled of wildflowers and the sun.

“Wench,” Jaime drawled, sitting by the table where the meal had been set up. “Shall I move my trunks here tomorrow?”

“Is there a problem with your chambers?”

“Yes.” As her thoughts went to the repairs he must need, Jaime said, “We clearly liked sleeping together. And I like having you as a blanket. I confess it is a struggle to sleep without listening to your snore. And I know you don’t like having to leave my bed just so you can change into your clothes here. Especially when it’s cold. I also don’t like being cold.”

The last sentence ended in a pout. Brienne had to bite back a smile.

“So that’s my problem, my lady wife. My chambers, spacious as they are, and with me in it, can’t seem to keep you for long. We’ve done our duty in having heirs,” Jaime said, casting a tender look at Ardyn then Gaebrel. “I believe we have earned the right to spend days and nights just with each other. And oh yes. The children too,” he added, opening his arms when Ardyn suddenly leaped off the chair to go to him. She squealed running to him on her wobbly legs before he caught her in his arms.

Burying his face in her hair, he purred, “My emerald sun.”

“My husband in my chambers,” Brienne pretended to muse. “It will be no hardship. I’ve learned to live with his relentless teasing. Not that I’m no longer tempted to smash a cinderblock on his head sometimes,” she added sweetly, making him laugh.

“Wonderful.”

“Yes.” Brienne gazed at Jaime spinning a laughing Ardyn in his arms before turning back to Gaebrel. Bright blue eyes looked up at her and he seemed to smile. She stroked the thick tuft of golden hair on his head. “It is wonderful.”

******  
Exactly nine moons later, squeals and shrieks rivaling in volume split through the chambers. Panting from Jaime’s arms, Brienne gasped, “Gods. Are there more coming?”

“No more, my lady,” the maester assured her with a kind smile. “Seven blessings on the Lady Evenstar and Lord Jaime. You have a boy and a girl.”

As Brienne laughed from shock and delight, Jaime let out a happy roar before kissing her soundly. “Wife, your strength never fails to astound me. I’m so proud of you.”

After the twins were cleaned and swaddled, they were given to Jaime and Brienne. Though she wanted to sleep for many moons, she managed to find the strength to look at her babies. A boy and a girl. Each with bright sapphire eyes.

“Have the septa bring our other children here so they may meet their new brother and sister,” Brienne requested from the maester. She turned to Jaime. He was grinning too, and his eyes seemed teary. Just like hers.

“Days and nights with just you and I, is it?” She whispered.

He chuckled. “The seed is strong, wench. Do you have names?”

“I thought you could name them this time, husband.” Brienne smiled as her infant daughter grasped her finger. “She’s strong.”

“Strong yet so fragile,” Jaime murmured. He kissed his son. The infant was also holding on to his finger. It was so moving to see how tender he was with the baby. A fresh surge of love for him flowed from Brienne’s heart. “How about Haedyn for him? And for her—”

With his stump, he caressed his new daughter’s smooth cheek. “Caryn.”

“Haedyn Lannister,” Brienne murmured. “Caryn Lannister. The twins of the Sapphire Isle.”

“Children of the Evenstar,” Jaime whispered, looking at her lovingly.

“Fathered by the Golden Lion,” she told him.

The doors opened to let in the septa and her charges, Lady Ardyn and Lord Gaebrel, who had just begun to walk. The septa bent, murmuring to the children to take care since their mother and new siblings needed rest. Ardyn took Gaebrel by the hand and together, stood at the bed.

“Meet your new brother and sister,” Jaime told them warmly. He bent a little to show them the baby. “This is your new baby brother. Haedyn. And your mother holds your sister Caryn.”

“I wish for the children to sleep in our chambers tonight,” Brienne told the septa. At her words, Ardyn visibly brightened. “Have cots and blankets set up.”

“But my lady—” the septa protested.

“You need to rest—” the maester tried to say.

But Brienne was firm. She knew what she wanted. “I wish to have my family with me to celebrate.”

After the doors closed behind them to alert the servants, Jaime kissed Brienne again. She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. They watched Ardyn smile and gently touch her new brother’s and sister’s feet. Three days ago, she had become betrothed to the only son borne of Robb Stark and Jeyne Westerling.

Besides the occasion of this birth, Brienne wanted her children with her for as long as possible. It was just a matter of time before they were no longer hers and Jaime’s.

To choose joy on this day was no hardship. Brienne had gone from being alone in the world and shattered over the vows she’d failed to fulfill to finding love with Jaime, and fortunate to have their marriage blessed with healthy children. It would be years before their children left the sunlit halls of Evenfall Hall, and many more before she and Jaime were taken by the Stranger. With what time they had, Brienne chose to happiness. She and her family would live in the light.

She smiled as Gaebrel cuddled close, his small hands hesitant in stroking his baby sister’s fine, pale hair. She looked at Jaime helping Ardyn count Haedyn’s toes.

This day will never be forgotten. She will take it with her even she was dust.

**Author's Note:**

> Pulling a Mariah, "I don't know Season 8."


End file.
